


Within

by orphan_account



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Video & Computer Games, YouTube, Youtuber - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Markiplier x Reader) [Originally "Once Upon a Starbucks" & "It All Started With a Dream"] {Revamped!} "Sometimes you must reach beyond yourself to reach within yourself." ~Mark Fischbach</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Information

For the dreams, there will be the symbol " zZ~ " for when it starts, and " ~Zz " for when it ends. Simple enough, right? 

As for flashbacks, there will be the symbol " %~ " for when it starts, and " ~% " for when it ends.

 

Enjoy


	2. For Spite

   Your chest caved the first time you saw them holding hands, though you were in a supposed happy relationship yourself. The moment your eyes locked with his as he clung to her palm like it was his life support, you felt yourself grow weak. You shivered and your eyes stung. Racing home, trying to seem inconspicuous, you had pulled your shrug tighter around your shoulders. But still, the shivers turned into shudders and they wouldn't stop, not even as you tried to get comfortable on your home's wooden steps. You couldn't understand it, and maybe you didn't want to.

 

   Confused and helpless, you reached for your bag to get your keys, only to find it wasn't strapped around your shoulder. Groaning internally, you moved your head side to side, and that was when you toppled over. Dizzy. You felt so dizzy. Your eyes rolled without command and your whole body tingled as if it were getting no circulation. Then you shuddered. Again. And again. And again. 

 

   What time is it? Where are you? What is going on? 

 

   You asked yourself these questions many times, still finding no answers as your world went black. You wanted to cry and scream for help, but you were rendered silent; with no cure.

 

   Shaking but not cold. Crying but not upset. Numb but not dead. 

 

   You went stiff, feeling the now damp floorboards against your throbbing shoulder and cheek. Cold drops of what you assumed was water gently hit parts of your body every now and then. Pit, pit, pit went the rain on your porch's awning.

 

   "(Y/N)?" You watched blankly as your boyfriend came into view, dropping the plastic bags he carried to rush over and help you. Once crouching down beside your limp form, his hands roamed to your biceps and carefully pulled you to a sit. There, he surveyed your face, his eyes trailing elsewhere to make sure you weren't hurt, afterwards. "What happened?" He asked quietly whilst wrapping you in a warm hug.

 

   You remained silent, losing your voice somewhere in the process of creating words. The man seemed to understand, releasing you before slowly helping you up and walking you inside the home. There, he removed your knitted shrug and carelessly threw it aside before leading you to the living room's couch. Pushing you down lightly into the furniture, he eyed you another second before returning to the outside, most likely to get the groceries he left behind.

 

   Another minute passed as he had come back inside, shut and locked the door, then set all the bags on the kitchen counter. Once done with those simple tasks, he made his way to you again, sitting on the couch's armrest.

 

   "Where's your bag?" he inquired. You were surprised he remembered you leaving with it.

 

   ".. p-park.." was the only thing you were capable of saying.

 

   The male sighed a bit, rolling his shoulders before resting a hand on top of your hair and leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Guess I should get it then."

 

   Suddenly, another shiver rocked your body and you felt the motivation to speak. "Wade, I --"

 

   "It's not a problem, okay?" He stood, tone sounding the slightest bit irritated. Zipping up his coat, he hesitantly swiveled on his heels to face you. "But this's been happening a lot, (Y/N). I'm worried."

 

   "It's..," you tried to find the right words to convince him, "just a phase. The doctor said so."

 

   "Bullshit."

 

   His angered voice and narrowed eyes surprised you; he rarely got mad. Though, seeing your shocked expression, he seemed to calm down a bit. For better or for worse, you didn't know. 

 

   "I know you didn't go to the hospital."

 

   "I did too!" Now, you raised your voice. You had always been kind of defensive.

 

   "Then why is your bag at the park?"

 

  "Because..," another pause as you tried to think of the right thing to say, "I decided to walk through there on the way back."

 

   "You didn't take a bus?"

 

   "I was a bit tired of people after sitting in a waiting room for so long..."

 

   "It's 10 miles away, (Y/N). If you had actually walked, you wouldn't even be home right now."

 

   Your eye twitched unconsciously, knowing you had lost the small, meaningless argument. "So," you grumbled, looking down as your fingers intertwined, "what if I didn't go?"

 

   "Then I guess I'm taking you over tomorrow afternoon." He turned again, heading for the front door.

 

   "Wade! I told you I'm fine!"

 

   He twisted the doorknob, quickly stepped out, then slammed the entrance shut behind him.

 

   He didn't even say he loved you. It had been such a usual thing for the both of you, it hurt now that he had broke the routine. 

 

   If routine was the right word to use.

 

   Guilt swirled around in your gut and you glanced over your shoulder at the awaiting groceries. You knew you should put them away since the refrigerated items would surely turn to rotting soon enough, but, just for spite, you let them be.

 

  Instead, you hesitantly got to a stand, and after making sure your head wouldn't start spinning again, you made your way to the guest room. And there, you dove for the bed, curling the crisp sheet between your clenching fists. Bring part of it to cover your face, you began to cry.

 

   Solid, wet trails created paths and detours around your cheekbones; you knew your mascara wouldn't last through the day. The aching in your chest returned, and for some odd reason you welcomed it. It was a nice reminder that you still felt enough love for Wade to receive the hurt, too. 

 

   But as your memories flashed back to that other man, your heart couldn't help but feel indifferent. Comforted at the thought of him holding you instead. Of him saying he wanted you. Of him doing anything and everything to make sure you were perfectly, 100% A-OK. 

 

And you fell asleep, shamelessly thinking about your boyfriend's best friend. It was just a stupid attraction anyway. You were sure it wouldn't last.


	3. Over

My sweetheart, my doll, my porcelain plates, my greatest treasure, my love and my soul, if we both can prove time-travelling only exists fairy tales, then I shall continue to cut off, piece by piece, my heart, and feed it to you in your lonely, starving and craving moments.

 

Even when you believe in our love no longer, I shall forever remain at your side, and I swear to the heavens above, to protect your unobtainable heart in my mighty grasp, until you have found The One.

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

   "What do you do for a living, Miss (L/N)?"

 

   "I.. draw.. and write."

 

   "For any particular audience?"

 

   "Anyone that's interested."

 

   "Interesting."

 

   You leaned back in the plastic chair, hands clasping each other in you lap, legs firmly crossed. It was a clear sign you weren't the most entertained person in the world. Quickly tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you rejoined your hands and cleared your throat. "Not really."

 

   "I understand you're having some troubles with..," the suited woman let her glasses slide down to the end of her nose as she read off her clipboard, "fainting and night terrors?"

 

   "It's nothing."

 

   "Your partner states otherwise. How many times have you blacked out?"

 

   "Can't remember."

 

   "How many night terrors?"

 

   "Forgot."

 

   The so-called nurse sighed and pushed the glasses to the bridge of her nose, glaring at you like a disappointed parent. To be honest, it amused you more than anything. "Miss (L/N), I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

 

   "That's because there isn't anything wrong."

 

   Another sigh as she hooked her pen to the top of the board, standing from her stool. "Well, I'll call for some others. Someone will be back to take a sample of your blood. We may do a CT scan later on, so keep an ear out for that too." And with that, she left.

 

   What ever did you do to deserve this?

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

 

If I had the possibility to control time, I would, without a second thought, take the chance.

 

The time would be set back to the days leading to my relapse of insecurity, where I would quickly smother you in the words of a love struck poet.

 

What exactly the real meaning behind them would be, I could never know because I was never there.

 

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

   "(Y/N), listen to me. You need help."

 

   "Wade, listen to me. I'm perfectly fine. They even said so. They showed you the scans, what other proof do you want?"

 

   "You're taking the medication, (Y/N). I'm not letting you suffer."

 

   You turned on your heels, suddenly filled with unimaginable anger as your hands slapped the bottle of pills out of your boyfriend's hand. "I'm not taking any of their damn pills! I'm not sick!"

 

   Rage filled his eyes, just the same amount that was drowning your gut. His hand raised subconsciously and instantly, your anger faded to fear, and fear to adrenaline. One arm blocked your face while the other crossed your stomach. On instinct, you rammed your knee into the closest thing that would hurt.

 

   And after a cry of pain, Wade had fallen to the ground. Crying yourself, you stomped off to the bedroom and rummaged through the dresser drawers, throwing all your clothes behind your shoulder before ripping open the closet and tugging out your suitcase. Just as you zipped it up, your boyfriend entered the room, hunched and leaning against the door frame. He seemed calmer now, but saddened at the act he had caught you in.

 

   "(Y/N)..," he started.

 

   "Don't even talk to me. It's over; I'm done."

 

   "Listen --"

 

   "I told you a million times that I was perfectly fine! Can you not get it through that thick skull of yours?"

 

   "I've waken up to you screaming almost every night for a month, (Y/N)!"

 

   "And you know what? Dreams are your brain's way of processing what happened throughout the day. Did you know that, Wade? Maybe it's a sign that I'm really unhappy with you!"

 

   The anger returned to his voice. "(Y/N)." 'How dare you threaten my pride,' was how you figured he would end the sentence in his mind.

 

   "Leave me alone!" You snatched your shrug from the bed and rolled your suitcase out the door, banging shoulders with Wade as you passed. "I told it's over."

 

   He seemed to swallow his pride, remaining silent as you speed-walked down the hallway, passing halfway through the kitchen and living room to the front door. There, you pulled on your shrug and opened the entrance, rushing out with your case in hand soon after.

 

   Your bag rumbling and grumbling against the gravel driveway, you ignored the fact you had no where to go and felt relieved that Wade was not putting up a game of cat and mouse. Sure, you were moderately good at running, but with all this fainting, you didn't want to risk it; yelling much the same, your vocal cords were already strained.

 

   A few neighbors peeked from behind their homes' curtains as you travelled past their gates, all of them never inquiring about your feverish pace. No matter how the eyes finally disappeared around a corner, and how your now ex-boyfriend surely wouldn't chase you, you still felt anxious. As if you knew something was coming. And you just couldn't figure out what.


End file.
